


The Meaning of Romance

by Evil_Little_Dog



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist
Genre: Challenge Response, Community: fma_fic_contest, F/M, Post-Canon, Post-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-14
Updated: 2011-06-14
Packaged: 2017-10-20 09:50:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/211461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Evil_Little_Dog/pseuds/Evil_Little_Dog
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary:  Edward Elric is not a romantic man.<br/>Disclaimer:  Arakawa and I are just like sisters!  ...not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Meaning of Romance

Winry didn’t expect romance from Ed. She wasn’t even sure if he knew what the word meant, at least not in the way most girls – or Mr. Garfield – used it. He wasn’t the hearts and flowers and swooning with love-longing type of guy. If someone meant the other way, the one where he’d be involved in adventure upon adventure, well, yes, Ed knew the definition of the word. He’d lived it for years, after all. But romance in the way of that novel, _The Xingese Prince_ , Mr. Garfiel liked to read, no, Ed didn’t have a clue.

It wasn’t for lack of people telling him. Winry knew Al had tried talking to his big brother about Things He Ought to Do for His Girlfriend. He’d even done the ‘show, not tell’ demonstration, presenting whatever girlfriend he had at the moment with tokens of his affection – flowers, or jewelry, or things he made by his alchemy, in front of Ed. Ed didn’t see to notice, or if he did, it was more to roll his eyes than anything. Winry didn’t really mind – flowers and metalworking, after all, weren’t exactly two things that went together well. Ed had already told her he wasn’t buying her any more earrings – mostly, Winry knew, for fear of what she might pierce next.

Mr. Garfiel had exclaimed in dismay over Ed’s lack of romantic gestures, clapping his hands to his cheeks and making watery eyes. “Surely such a young man would’ve taken lessons from that darling Ling!” And then, later, with a sigh, “Why didn’t he take lessons from that darling Ling?”

Winry was afraid what Lieutenant Colonel Armstrong might say about Ed, and romance, and hoped it never came up in any conversation. The man might decide to hug it into Ed, or force him to sit through a lecture on Armstrong Family Wooing Techniques Through the Ages. All right, so it’d be fun to listen to Ed bitch about it afterward, but the idea of Ed writing sonnets to the glory of her hair made Winry giggle.

Granny, fortunately, didn’t say anything about Ed’s ability to be romantic, or his lack thereof. Then again, Winry wasn’t sure her grandmother knew anything about romance, or if it meant the same thing during her younger days. The Panthress of Rezembool might’ve followed the ‘take no prisoners’ rules of courtship, from what Winry’d heard in Rush Valley.

Besides, it wasn’t like Ed didn’t do nice things. He did. He’d cook, though he drew the line at spaghetti, no matter how much Winry might like it -

 _“I don’t see how you can eat that crap. It looks like brains and blood, all mixed together.”_

 _“Just shut up and eat it, Ed. It won’t kill you and it’s good! You like it everything in it when it isn’t mixed together!”_

\- and clean up the kitchen afterward. He’d rub her back when she finished an all-nighter. He remembered to bring presents back when he journeyed around Amestris and beyond. He sent her letters and sheafs of photographs from wherever he traveled. And now, she knew for sure Ed would come home to her, and their welcome homes were always - _always_ \- amazing.

It wasn’t as if she really needed the popular idea of romance from Ed, anyway. Ed proved to her just how he felt about her. She’d miss it if they didn’t squabble with each other (Ed, Winry was sure, had no idea how fiery his eyes got and how amazingly sexy he looked when he was mid-argument). Ed was at least mannered enough to open doors and pull out chairs for her, and so what if he didn’t write odes or bring home flowers. Winry had proof of his love wrapped around her third left finger, and the arms wrapped around her from behind, and the chin resting on her shoulder as Ed rubbed her swelling belly.

Ed kissed her temple. “I made dinner,” he said, “I hope you can eat it.”

“I think I’m past the morning sickness phase.” Winry leaned back against him, letting him support her weight. “What’d you make? You know I can’t smell anything over the torch.” She nodded at the acetylene torch, and the piece of metal she’d carved down to size for the casing of Tetsuo’s new leg.

He smiled. Winry could feel the curve of his mouth against her cheek. “Your favorite.” Ed kissed her again. “Spaghetti.”

Okay, so, maybe Ed didn’t know the meaning of the word romance, but he knew what would make her happy. That was more important in the long run, and Winry planned to show him her appreciation.

Right after dinner.


End file.
